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THE TALE OF BALEN 



THE TALE OF BALEN 



BY 



/ 



ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE 






C-»FW»S»**''^ 



"b-a- 



\->.-^ ^ B*^' I 



NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
1896 



-N 






Copyright, 1896, by 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



TBOW DIRECTORY 

PHINTINQ AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY 
NEW YORK 



DEDICATION 



TO MY MOTHER 



Love that holds life and death in fee, 
Deep as the clear unsounded sea 
And sweet as life or death can be, 
Lays here my hope, my heart, and me, 

Before you, silent, in a song. 
Since the old wild tale, made new, found grace, 
When half sung through, before your face. 
It needs must live a springtide space. 

While April suns grow strong. 

March 24, 1896. 



THE TALE OF BALEN 



In hawthorn-time the heart grows light, 
The world is sweet in sound and sight, 
Glad thoughts and birds take flower and flight. 
The heather kindles toward the light, 

The whin is frankincense and flame. 
And be it for strife or be it for love 
The falcon quickens as the dove 
When earth is touched from heaven above 

With joy that knows no name. 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And glad in spirit and sad in soul 
With dream and doubt of days that roll 
As waves that race and find no goal 
Rode on by bush and brake and bole 

A northern child of earth and sea. 
The pride of life before him lay 
Radiant : the heavens of night and day 
Shone less than shone before his way 

His ways and days to be. 



And all his life of blood and breath 
Sang out within him : time and death 
Were even as words a dreamer saith 
When sleep within him slackeneth, 

And light and life and spring were one. 
The steed between his knees that sprang, 
The moors and woods that shone and sang, 
The hours wherethrough the spring's breath rang, 

Seemed ageless as the sun. 

2 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

But alway through the bounteous bloom 
That earth gives thanks if heaven illume 
His soul forefelt a shadow of doom, 
His heart foreknew a gloomier gloom 

Than closes all men's equal ways, 
Albeit the spirit of life's light spring 
With pride of heart upheld him, king 
And lord of hours like snakes that sting 

And nights that darken days. 



And as the strong spring round him grew 
Stronger, and all blithe winds that blew 
Blither, and flowers that flowered anew 
More glad of sun and air and dew. 

The shadow lightened on his soul 
And brightened into death and died 
Like winter, as the bloom waxed wide 
From woodside on to riverside 

And southward goal to goal. 

3 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Along the wandering ways of Tyne, 
By beech and birch and thorn that shine 
And laugh when life's requickening wine 
Makes night and noon and dawn divine 

And stirs in all the veins of spring, 
And past the brightening banks of Tees, 
He rode as one that breathes and sees 
A sun more blithe, a merrier breeze, 

A life that hails him king. 



And down the softening south that knows 
No more how glad the heather glows. 
Nor how, when winter's clarion blows 
Across the bright Northumbrian snows. 

Sea-mists from east and westward meet. 
Past Avon senseless yet of song 
And Thames that bore but swans in throng 
He rode elate in heart and strong 

In trust of days as sweet. 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

So came he through to Camelot, 

Glad, though for shame his heart waxed hot, 

For hope within it withered not 

To see the shaft it dreamed of shot 

Fair toward the gUmmering goal of fame. 
And all King Arthur's knightliest there 
Approved him knightly, swift to dare 
And keen to bid their records bear 

Sir Balen's northern name. 



Sir Balen of Northumberland 

Gat grace before the king to stand 

High as his heart was, and his hand 

Wrought honour toward the strange north strand 

That sent him south so goodly a knight. 
And envy, sick with sense of sin, 
Began as poisonous herbs begin 
To work in base men's blood, akin 

To men's of nobler might. 

5 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And even so fell it that his doom, 
For all his bright life's kindling bloom 
And light that took no thought for gloom, 
Fell as a breath from the opening tomb 

Full on him ere he wist or thought. 
For once a churl of royal seed, 
King Arthur's kinsman, faint in deed 
And loud in word that knew not heed. 

Spake shame where shame was nought. 



* What doth one here in Camelot 
Whose birth was northward ? Wot we not 
As all his brethren borderers wot 
How blind of heart, how keen and hot, 

The wild north lives and hates the south ? 
Men of the narrowing march that knows 
Nought save the strength of storms and snows, 
What would these carles where knighthood blows 

A trump of kinglike mouth ?' 
6 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Swift from his place leapt Balen, smote 

The liar across his face, and wrote 

His wrath in blood upon the bloat 

Brute cheek that challenged shame for note 

How vile a king-born knave might be. 
Forth sprang their swords, and Balen slew 
The knave ere well one witness knew 
Of all that round them stood or drew 

What sight was there to see. 



Then spake the great king's wrathful will 
A doom for six dark months to fill 
Wherein close prison held him, still 
And steadfast-souled for good or ill. 

But when those weary days lay dead 
His lordliest knights and barons spake 
Before the king for Balen's sake 
Good speech and wise, of force to break 

The bonds that bowed his head. 



THE TALE OF BALEN 



II 



In linden-time the heart is high 
For pride of summer passing by 
With lordly laughter in her eye ; 
A heavy splendour in the sky 

Uplifts and bows it down again. 
The spring had waned from wood and wold 
Since Balen left his prison hold 
And lowlier-hearted than of old 

Beheld it wax and wane. 
8 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Though humble heart and poor array 
Kept not from spirit and sense away 
Their noble nature, nor could slay 
The pride they bade but pause and stay 

Till time should bring its trust to flower, 
Yet even for noble shame's sake, born 
Of hope that smiled on hate and scorn, 
He held him still as earth ere morn 

Ring forth her rapturous hour. 



But even as earth when dawn takes flight 
And beats her wings of dewy light 
Full in the faltering face of night. 
His soul awoke to claim by right 

The life and death of deed and doom, 
When once before the king there came 
A maiden clad with grief and shame 
And anguish burning her like flame 

That feeds on flowers in bloom. 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Beneath a royal mantle, fair 

With goodly work of lustrous vair, 

Girt fast against her side she bare 

A sword whose weight bade all men there 

Quail to behold her face again. 
Save of a passing perfect knight 
Not great alone in force and fight 
It might not be for any might 

Drawn forth, and end her pain. 



So said she : then King Arthur spake : 
* Albeit indeed I dare not take 
Such praise on me, for knighthood's sake 
And love of ladies will I make 

Assay if better none may be.' 
By girdle and by sheath he caught 
The sheathed and girded sword, and wrought 
With strength whose force availed him nought 

To save and set her free. 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Again she spake : ' No need to set 
The might that man has matched not yet 
Against it : he whose hand shall get 
Grace to release the bonds that fret 

My bosom and my girdlestead 
With little strain of strength or strife 
Shall bring me as from death to life 
And win to sister or to wife 

Fame that oatlives men dead.' 



Then bade the king his knights assay 
This mystery that before him lay 
And mocked his might of manhood. ' Nay, 
Quoth she, ' the man that takes away 

This burden laid on me must be 
A knight of record clean and fair 
As sunlight and the flowerful air, 
By sire and mother born to bear 

A name to shame not me.' 
II 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Then forth strode Launcelot, and laid 
The mighty-moulded hand that made 
Strong knights reel back like birds affrayed 
By storm that smote them as they strayed 

Against the hilt that yielded not. 
Then Tristram, bright and sad and kind 
As one that bore in noble mind 
Love that made light as darkness blind, 

Fared even as Launcelot. 



Then Lamoracke, with hardier cheer, 
As one that held all hope and fear 
Wherethrough the spirit of man may steer 
In life and death less dark or dear, 

Laid hand thereon, and fared as they. 
With half a smile his hand he drew 
Back from the spell-bound thing, and threw 
With half a glance his heart anew 

Toward no such blameless may. 

12 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Between Iseult and Guenevere 

Sat one of name as high to hear, 

But darklier doomed than they whose cheer 

Foreshowed not yet the deadlier year 

That bids the queenliest head bow down, 
The queen Morgause of Orkney : they 
With scarce a flash of the eye could say 
The very word of dawn, when day 

Gives earth and heaven their crown. 



But bright and dark as night or noon 
And lowering as a storm-flushed moon 
When clouds and thwarting winds distune 
The music of the midnight, soon 

To die from darkening star to star 
And leave a silence in the skies 
That yearns till dawn find voice and rise, 
Shone strange as fate Morgause, with eyes 

That dwelt on days afar. 

13 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

A glance that shot on Lamoracke 
As from a storm-cloud bright and black 
Fire swift and blind as death's own track 
Turn fleet as flame on Arthur back 

From him whose hand forsook the hilt 
And one in blood and one in sin 
Their hearts caught fire of pain within 
And knew no goal for them to win 

But death that guerdons guilt. 



Then Gawain, sweet of soul and gay 
As April ere he dreams of May, 
Strove, and prevailed not : then Sir Kay, 
The snake-souled envier, vile as they 

That fawn and foam and lurk and lie, 
Sire of the bastard band whose brood 
Was alway found at servile feud 
With honour, faint and false and lewd. 

Scarce grasped and put it by. 

14 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Then wept for woe the damsel bound 
With iron and with anguish round, 
That none to help her grief was found 
Or loose the inextricably inwound 

Grim curse that girt her life with grief 
And made a burden of her breath, 
Harsh as the bitterness of death. 
Then spake the king as one that saith 

Words bitterer even than brief. 



* Methought the wide round world could bring 
Before the face of queen or king 
No knights more fit for fame to sing 
Than fill this full Round Table's ring 

With honour higher than pride of place : 
But now my heart is wrung to know, 
Damsel, that none whom fame can show 
Finds grace to heal or help thy woe : 

God gives them not the grace.' 

15 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Then from the lowliest place thereby, 
With heart-enkindled cheek and eye 
Most like the star and kindling sky 
That say the sundawn's hour is high 

When rapture trembles through the sea, 
Strode Balen in his poor array 
Forth, and took heart of grace to pray 
The damsel suffer even him to assay 

His power to set her free. 



Nay, how should he avail, she said. 
Averse with scorn-averted head. 
Where these availed not ? none had sped 
Of all these mightier men that led 

The lists wherein he might not ride. 
And how should less men speed ? But he, 
With lordlier pride of courtesy. 
Put forth his hand and set her free 
From pain and humbled pride. 
i6 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

But on the sword he gazed elate 
With hope set higher than fear or fate, 
Or doubt of darkling days in wait ; 
And when her thankful praise waxed great 

And craved of him the sword again, 
He would not give it. ' Nay, for mine 
It is till force may make it thine.* 
A smile that shone as death may shine 

Spake toward him bale and bane. 



Strange lightning flickered from her eyes. 
* Gentle and good in knightliest guise 
And meet for quest of strange emprise 
Thou hast here approved thee : yet not wise 

To keep the sword from me, I wis. 
For with it thou shalt surely slay 
Of all that look upon the day 
The man best loved of thee, and lay 

Thine own life down for his.' 

17 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* What chance God sends, that chance I take, 
He said. Then soft and still she spake ; 

* I would but for thine only sake 

Have back the sword of thee, and break 

The links of doom that bind thee round. 
But seeing thou wilt not have it so. 
My heart for thine is wrung with woe.' 
'God's will,' quoth he, ' it is, we know, 
Wherewith our lives are bound.' 



* Repent it must thou soon,' she said, 

* Who wouldst not hear the rede I read 
For thine and not for my sake, sped 
In vain as waters heavenward shed 

From springs that falter and depart 
Earthward. God bids not thee believe 
Truth, and the web thy life must weave 
For even this sword to close and cleave 

Hangs heavy round my heart.' 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

So passed she mourning forth. But he, 
With heart of springing hope set free 
As birds that breast and brave the sea, 
Bade horse and arms and armour be 

Made straightway ready toward the fray. 
Nor even might Arthur's royal prayer 
Withhold him, but with frank and fair 
Thanksgiving and leave-taking there 

He turned him thence away. 



19 



THE TALE OF BALEN 



III 



As the east wind, when the morning's breast 
Gleams like a bird's that leaves the nest, 
A fledgeling halcyon's bound on quest, 
Drives wave on wave on wave to west 

Till all the sea be life and light. 
So time's mute breath, that brings to bloom 
All flowers that strew the dead spring's tomb, 
Drives day on day on day to doom 

Till all man's day be night. 

20 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Brief as the breaking of a wave 
That hurls on man his thunderous grave 
Ere fear find breath to cry or crave 
Life that no chance may spare or save, 

The light of joy and glory shone 
Even as in dreams where death seems dead 
Round Balen's hope-exalted head, 
Shone, passed, and lightened as it fled 

The shadow of doom thereon. 



For as he bound him thence to fare. 
Before the stately presence there 
A lady like a windflower fair, 
Girt on with raiment strange and rare 

That rippled whispering round her, came. 
Her clear cold eyes, all glassy grey. 
Seemed lit not with the light of day 
But touched with gleams that waned away 

Of quelled and fading flame. 

21 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Before the king she bowed and spake : 
* King, for thine old faith's plighted sake 
To me the lady of the lake, 
I come in trust of thee to take 

The guerdon of the gift I gave, 
Thy sword Excalibur.' And he 
Made answer : * Be it whate'er it be, 
If mine to give, I give it thee. 

Nor need is thine to crave.' 



As when a gleam of wicked light 
Turns half a low-lying water bright 
That moans beneath the shivering night 
With sense of evil sound and sight 

And whispering witchcraft's bated breath, 
Her wan face quickened as she said : 
* This knight that won the sword — his head 
I crave or hers that brought it. Dead, 

Let these be one in death.' 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* Not with mine honour this may be ; 
Ask all save this thou wilt,' quoth he, 
'And have thy full desire.' But she 
Made answer : * Nought will I of thee. 

Nought if not this.* Then Balen turned. 
And saw the sorceress hard beside 
By whose fell craft his mother died : 
Three years he had sought her, and here espied 

His heart against her yearned. 



* 111 be thou met,' he said, ' whose ire 
Would slake with blood thy soul's desire : 
By thee my mother died in fire ; 

Die thou by me a death less dire.* 

Sharp flashed his sword forth, fleet as flame. 
And shore away her sorcerous head. 

* Alas for shame,' the high king said, 

* That one found once my friend lies dead ; 

Alas for all our shame ! 

23 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

' Thou shouldst have here forborne her ; yea, 
Were all the wrongs that bid men slay 
Thine, heaped too high for wrath to weigh, 
Not here before my face today 

Was thine the right to wreak thy wrong.' 
Still stood he then as one that found 
His rose of hope by storm discrowned. 
And all the joy that girt him round 

Brief as a broken song. 



Yet ere he passed he turned and spake : 
^ King, only for thy nobler sake 
Than aught of power man's power may take 
Or pride of place that pride may break 

I bid the lordlier man in thee. 
That lives within the king, give ear. 
This justice done before thee here 
On one that hell's own heart holds dear, 

Needs might not this but be. 
24 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

'Albeit, for all that pride would prove, 
My heart be wrung to lose thy love. 
It yet repents me not hereof : 
So many an eagle and many a dove, 

So many a knight, so many a may. 
This water-snake of poisonous tongue 
To death by words and wiles hath stung. 
That her their slayer, from hell's lake sprung, 

I did not ill to slay.' 



* Yea,' said the king, ' too high of heart 
To stand before a king thou art ; 
Yet irks it me to bid thee part 
And take thy penance for thy part, 

That God may put upon thy pride.' 
Then Balen took the severed head 
And toward his hostry turned and sped 
As one that knew not quick from dead 

Nor good from evil tide. 

25 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

He bade his squire before him stand 
And take that sanguine spoil in hand 
And bear it far by shore and strand 
Till all in glad Northumberland 

That loved him, seeing it, all might know 
His deadliest foe was dead, and hear 
How free from prison as from fear 
He dwelt in trust of the answering year 

To bring him weal for woe. 



' And tell them, now I take my way 
To meet in battle, if I may. 
King Ryons of North Wales, and slay 
That king of kernes whose fiery sway 

Doth all the marches dire despite 
That serve King Arthur : so shall he 
Again be gracious lord to me, 
And I that leave thee meet with thee 

Once more in Arthur's sight.' 
26 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

So spake he ere they parted, nor 
Took shame or fear to counsellor, 
As one whom none laid ambush for ; 
And wist not how Sir Launceor, 

The wild king's son of Ireland, hot 
And high in wrath to know that one 
Stood higher in fame before the sun, 
Even Balen, since the sword was won, 

Drew nigh from Camelot. 



For thence, in heat of hate and pride, 
As one that man might bid not bide. 
He craved the high king's grace to ride 
On quest of Balen far and wide 

And wreak the wrong his wrath had wrought. 
* Yea,' Arthur said, 'for such despite 
Was done me never in my sight 
As this thine hand shall now requite 

If trust avail us aught.' 
27 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

But ere he passed, in eager mood 
To feed his hate with bitter food, 
Before the king's face Merlin stood 
And heard his tale of ill and good. 

Of Balen, and the sword achieved. 
And whence it smote as heaven's red ire 
That direful dame of doom as dire ; 
And how the king's wrath turned to fire 

The grief wherewith he grieved. 



And darkening as he gave it ear. 
The still face of the sacred seer 
Waxed wan with wrath and not with fear^ 
And ever changed its cloudier cheer 

Till all his face was very night. 
*This damosel that brought the sword,' 
He said, ' before the king my lord. 
And all these knights about his board, 

Hath done them all despite. 
28 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* The falsest damosel she is 
That works men ill on earth, I wis, 
And all her mind is toward but this, 
To kill as with a lying kiss 

Truth, and the life of noble trust. 
A brother hath she, — see but now 
The flame of shame that brands her brow !- 
A true man, pure as faith's own vow. 

Whose honour knows not rust. 



* This good knight found within her bower 

A felon and her paramour. 

And slew him in his shameful hour, 

As right gave might and righteous power 

To hands that wreaked so foul a wrong. 
Then, for the hate her heart put on, 
She sought by ways where death had gone 
The lady Lyle of Avalon, 

Whose crafts are strange and strong. 
29 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

' The sorceress, one with her in thought, 
Gave her that sword of magic, wrought 
By charms whereof sweet heaven sees nought, 
That hither girt on her she brought 

To be by doom her brother's bane. 
And grief it is to think how he 
That won it, being of heart so free 
And perfect found in chivalry, 

Shall by that sword lie slain. 



* Great pity it is and strange despite 
That one whose eyes are stars to light 
Honour, and shine as heaven's own height, 
Should perish, being the goodliest knight 

That even the all-glorious north has borne. 
Nor shall my lord the king behold 
A lordlier friend of mightier mould 
Than Balen, though his tale be told 

Ere noon fulfil his morn.' 

30 



THE TALE OF BALEN 



IV 



As morning hears before it run 
The music of the mounting sun, 
And laughs to watch his trophies won 
From darkness, and her hosts undone, 

And all the night become a breath, 
Nor dreams that fear should hear and flee 
The summer menace of the sea, 
So hears our hope what life may be. 

And knows it not for death. 

31 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Each day that slays its hours and dies 
Weeps, laughs, and lightens on our eyes, 
And sees and hears not : smiles and sighs 
As flowers ephemeral fall and rise 

About its birth, about its way. 
And pass as love and sorrow pass. 
As shadows flashing down a glass. 
As dew-flowers blowing in flowerless grass. 

As hope from yesterday. 



The blossom of the sunny dew 
That now the stronger sun strikes through 
Fades off the blade whereon it blew 
No fleetlier than the flowers that grew 

On hope's green stem in life's fierce light. 
Nor might the glory soon to sit 
Awhile on Balen's crest alit 
Outshine the shadow of doom on it 

Or stay death's wings from flight. 

32 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Dawn on a golden moorland side 
By holt and heath saw Balen ride 
And Launceor after, pricked with pride 
And stung with spurring envy : wide 

And far he had ridden across strange lands 
And sought amiss the man he found 
And cried on, till the stormy sound 
Rang as a rallying trumpet round 

That fires men's hearts and hands. 



Abide he bade him : nor was need 
To bid when Balen wheeled his steed 
Fiercely, less fain by word than deed 
To bid his envier evil speed. 

And cried, * What wilt thou with me ? ' Loud 
Rang Launceor's vehement answer : * Knight, 
To avenge on thee the dire despite 
Thou hast done us all in Arthur's sight 

I stand toward Arthur vowed.' 

33 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* Ay ? ' Balen said : ' albeit I see 
I needs must deal in strife with thee, 
Light is the wyte thou layest on me ; 
For her I slew and sinned not, she 

Was dire in all men's eyes as death, 
Or none were lother found than I 
By me to bid a woman die : 
As lief were loyal men to lie, 

Or scorn what honour saith.' 



As the arched wave's weight against the reef 
Hurls, and is hurled back like a leaf 
Storm-shrivelled, and its rage of grief 
Speaks all the loud broad sea in brief. 

And quells the hearkening hearts of men, 
Or as the crash of overfalls 
Down under blue smooth water brawls 
Like jarring steel on ruining walls. 

So rang their meeting then. 

34 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

As wave on wave shocks, and confounds 
The bounding bulk whereon it bounds 
And breaks and shattering seaward sounds 
As crying of the old sea's wolves and hounds 

That moan and ravin and rage and wail, 
So steed on steed encountering sheer 
Shocked, and the strength of Launceor's spear 
Shivered on Balen's shield, and fear 

Bade hope within him quail. 



But Balen's spear through Launceor's shield 
Clove as a ploughshare cleaves the field 
And pierced the hauberk triple-steeled, 
That horse with horseman stricken reeled, 

And as a storm-breached rock falls, fell. 
And Balen turned his horse again 
And wist not yet his foe lay slain, 
And saw him dead that sought his bane 

And wrought and fared not well. 

35 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Suddenly, while he gazed and stood, 
And mused in many-minded mood 
If life or death were evil or good, 
Forth of a covert of a wood 

That skirted half the moorland lea 
Fast rode a maiden flower-like white 
Full toward that fair wild place of fight, 
Anhungered of the woful sight 

God gave her there to see. 



And seeing the man there fallen and dead. 
She cried against the sun that shed 
Light on the living world, and said, 
* O Balen, slayer whose hand is red, 

Two bodies and one heart thou hast slain, 
Two hearts within one body : aye. 
Two souls thou hast lost ; by thee they die, 
Cast out of sight of earth and sky 

And all that made them fain.' 

36 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And from the dead his sword she caught, 
And fell in trance that wist of nought, 
Swooning : but softly Balen sought 
To win from her the sword she thought 

To die on, dying by Launceor's side. 
Again her wakening wail outbroke 
As wildly, sword in hand, she woke 
And struck one swift and bitter stroke 
That healed her, and she died 



And sorrowing for their strange love's sake 
Rode Balen forth by lawn and lake. 
By moor and moss and briar and brake, 
And in his heart their sorrow spake 

Whose lips were dumb as death, and said 
Mute words of presage blind and vain 
As rain-stars blurred and marred by rain 
To wanderers on a moonless main 
Where night and day seem dead. 
37 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Then toward a sunbright wildwood side 
He looked and saw beneath it ride 
A knight whose arms afar espied 
By note of name and proof of pride 

Bare witness of his brother born, 
His brother Balan, hard at hand, 
Twin flower of bright Northumberland, 
Twin sea-bird of their loud sea-strand, 

Twin song-bird of their morn. 



Ah then from Balen passed away- 
All dread of night, all doubt of day, 
All care what life or death might say, 
All thought of all worse months than May 

Only the might of joy in love 
Brake forth within him as a fire, 
And deep delight in deep desire 
Of far-flown days whose full-souled quire 

Rang round from the air above. 

38 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

From choral earth and quiring air 
Rang memories winged like songs that bear 
Sweet gifts for spirit and sense to share : 
For no man's life knows love more fair 

And fruitful of memorial things 
Than this the deep dear love that breaks 
With sense of life on life, and makes 
The sundawn sunnier as it wakes 

Where morning round it rings. 



* O brother, O my brother ! " cried 
Each upon each, and cast aside 
Their helms unbraced that might not hide 
From sight of memory single-eyed 

The likeness graven of face and face, 
And kissed and wept upon each other 
For joy and pity of either brother, 
And love engraffed by sire and mother, 

God's natural gift of grace. 

39 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And each with each took counsel meet 
For comfort, making sorrow sweet, 
And grief a goodly thing to greet : 
And word from word leapt light and fleet 

Till all the venturous tale was told, 
And how in Balen's hope it lay- 
To meet the wild Welsh king and slay, 
And win from Arthur back for pay 

The grace he gave of old. 



* And thither will not thou with me 
And win as great a grace for thee ? ' 
'That will I well,' quoth Balan : * we 
Will cleave together, bound and free. 

As brethren should, being twain and one. 
But ere they parted thence there came 
A creature withered as with flame, 
A dwarf mismade in nature's shame. 

Between them and the sun, 
40 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And riding fleet as fire may glide 
He found the dead lie side by side, 
And wailed and rent his hair and cried, 

* Who hath done this deed ? ' And Balen eyed 

The strange thing loathfully, and said, 

* The knight I slew, who found him fain 
And keen to slay me : seeing him slain, 
The maid I sought to save in vain, 

Self-stricken, here lies dead. 



* Sore grief was mine to see her die. 
And for her true faith's sake shall I 
Love, and with love of heart more high, 
All women better till I die.' 

* Alas,* the dwarf said, ' ill for thee 
In evil hour this deed was done : 
For now the quest shall be begun 
Against thee, from the dawning sun 

Even to the sunset sea. 

41 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

' From shore to mountain, dawn to night, 
The kinsfolk of this great dead knight 
Will chase thee to thy death.' A light 
Of swift blithe scorn flashed answer bright 

As fire from Balen's eye. ' For that, 
Small fear shall fret my heart,' quoth he : 
* But that my lord the king should be 
For this dead man's sake wroth with me, 

Weep might it well thereat.* 



Then murmuring passed the dwarf away, 
And toward the knights in fair array 
Came riding eastward up the way 
From where the flower-soft lowlands lay 

A king whose name the sweet south-west 
Held high in honour, and the land 
That bowed beneath his gentle hand 
Wore on its wild bright northern strand 

Tintagel for a crest. 

N 42 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And Balen hailed with homage due 
King Mark of Cornwall, when he knew 
The pennon that before him flew : 
And for those lovers dead and true 

The king made moan to hear their doom ; 
And for their sorrow's sake he sware 
To seek in all the marches there 
The church that man might find most fair 

And build therein their tomb. 



43 



THE TALE OF BALEN 



As thought from thought takes wing and flies, 
As month on month with sunlit eyes 
Tramples and* triumphs in its rise, 
As wave smites wave to death and dies, 

So chance on hurtling chance like steel 
Strikes, flashes, and is quenched, ere fear 
Can whisper hope, or hope can hear, 
If sorrow or joy be far or near 

For time to hurt or heal. 

44 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Swift as a shadow and strange as light 
That cleaves in twain the shadow of night 
Before the wide-winged word takes flight 
That thunder speaks to depth and height 

And quells the quiet hour with sound, 
There came before King Mark and stood 
Between the moorside and the wood 
The man whose word God's will made good, 

Nor guile was in it found. 



And Merlin said to Balen : ^ Lo, 

Thou hast wrought thyself a grievous woe 

To let this lady die, and know 

Thou mightst have stayed her deadly blow.' 

And Balen answered him and said, 
* Nay, by my truth to faith, not I, 
So fiercely fain she was to die ; 
Ere well her sword had flashed on high, 

Self-slain she lay there dead.' 

45 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Again and sadly Merlin spake : 

* My heart is wrung for this deed's sake, 
To know thee therefore doomed to take 
Upon thine hand a curse, and make 

Three kingdoms pine through twelve years' 
change, 
In want and woe : for thou shalt smite 
The man most noble and truest knight 
That looks upon the live world's light 

A dolorous stroke and strange. 

* And not till years shall round their goal 

May this man's wound thou hast given be whole.' 
And Balen, stricken through the soul 
By dark-winged words of doom and dole. 

Made answer : *If I wist it were 
No lie but sooth thou sayest of me. 
Then even to make a liar of thee 
Would I too slay myself, and see 

How death bids dead men fare.' 
46 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And Merlin took his leave and passed 
And was not : and the shadow as fast 
Went with him that his word had cast, 
Too fleet for thought thereof to last : 

And there those brethren bade King Mark 
Farewell : but fain would Mark have known 
The strong knight's name who had overthrown 
The pride of Launceor, when it shone 

Bright as it now lay dark. 



And Balan for his brother spake, 
Saying : ' Sir, albeit him list not break 
The seal of secret time, nor shake 
Night off him ere his morning wake. 

By these two swords he is girt withal 
May men that praise him, knights and lords, 
Call him the knight that bears two swords. 
And all the praise his fame accords 

Make answer when they call.' 

47 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

So parted they toward eventide ; 

And tender twilight, heavy-eyed, 

Saw deep down glimmering woodlands ride 

Balen and Balan side by side, 

Till where the leaves grew dense and dim 
Again they spied from far draw near 
The presence of the sacred seer. 
But so disguised and strange of cheer 

That seeing they knew not him. 



* Now whither ride ye,* Merlin said, 

* Through shadows that the sun strikes red, 
Ere night be born or day be dead ? ' 

But they, for doubt half touched with dread. 
Would say not where their goal might lie. 

* And thou,' said Balen, ' what art thou, 
To walk with shrouded eye and brow ? ' 
He said : * Me lists not show thee now 

By name what man am I.' 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

*I11 seen is this of thee,' said they, 
* That thou art true in word and way 
Nor fain to fear the face of day, 
Who wilt not as a true man say 

The name it shames not him to bear. 
He answered : * Be it or be it not so, 
Yet why ye ride this way I know, 
To meet King Ryons as a foe. 

And how your hope shall fare. 



* Well, if ye hearken toward my rede, 
111, if ye hear not, shall ye speed.' 

* Ah, now,' they cried, 'thou art ours at need 
What Merlin saith we are fain to heed.* 

* Great worship shall ye win,' said he, 
*And look that ye do knightly now. 
For great shall be your need, I trow.' 
And Balen smiled : * By knighthood's vow, 

The best we may will we.' 

49 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Then Merlin bade them turn and take 
Rest, for their good steeds' weary sake, 
Between the highway and the brake, 
Till starry midnight bade them wake : 

Then ' Rise,' he said, * the king is nigh, 
Who hath stolen from all his host away 
With threescore horse in armed array. 
The goodliest knights that bear his sway 

And hold his kingdom high. 



' And twenty ride of them before 
To bear his errand, ere the door 
Turn of the night, sealed fast no more, 
And sundawn bid the stars wax hoar ; 

For by the starshine of to-night 
He seeks a leman where she waits 
His coming, dark and swift as fate's, 
And hearkens toward the unopening gates 

That yield not him to sight.' 

50 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Then through the glimmering gloom around 
A shadowy sense of light and sound 
Made, ere the proof thereof were found, 
The brave blithe hearts within them bound, 

And ' Where,' quoth Balen, ' rides the king ? 
But softer spake the seer : * Abide, 
Till hither toward your spears he ride, 
Where all the narrowing woodland side 

Grows dense with boughs that cling.' 



There in that straitening way they met 
The wild Welsh host against them set. 
And smote their strong king down, ere yet 
His hurrying horde of spears might get 

Fierce vantage of them. Then the fight 
Grew great and joyous as it grew, 
For left and right those brethren slew, 
Till all the lawn waxed red with dew 

More deep than dews of night. 

51 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And ere the full fierce tale was read 
Full forty lay before them dead, 
And fast the hurtling remnant fled 
And wist not whither fear had led : 

And toward the king they went again, 
And would have slain him : but he bowed 
Before them, crying in fear aloud 
For grace they gave him, seeing the proud 

Wild king brought lowest of men. 



And ere the wildwood leaves were stirred 
With song or wing of wakening bird, 
In Camelot was Merlin's word 
With joy in joyous wonder heard 

That told of Arthur's bitterest foe 
Diskingdomed and discomfited. 
*By whom ?' the high king smiled and said. 
He answered : ' Ere the dawn wax red, 

To-morrow bids you know. 

52 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* Two knights whose heart and hope are one 
And fain to win your grace have done 
This work whereby if grace be won 
Their hearts shall hail the enkindling sun 

With joy more keen and deep than day.' 
And ere the sundawn drank the dew 
Those brethren with their prisoner drew 
To the outer guard they gave him to 

And passed again away. 



And Arthur came as toward his guest 
To greet his foe, and bade him rest 
As one returned from nobler quest 
And welcome from the stormbright west, 

But by what chance he fain would hear. 
* The chance was hard and strange, sir king,' 
Quoth Ryons, bowed in thanksgiving. 
'Who won you ?' Arthur said: ^he thing 

Is worth a warrior's ear.' 

53 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

The wild king flushed with pride and shame, 
Answering : * I know not either name 
Of those that there against us came 
And withered all our strength like flame : 

The knight that bears two swords is one, 
And one his brother : not on earth 
May men meet men of knightlier worth 
Nor mightier born of mortal birth 

That hail the sovereign sun.' 



And Arthur said : ' I know them not ; 
But much am I for this, God wot, 
Beholden to them : Launcelot 
Nor Tristram, when the war waxed hot 

Along the marches east and west. 
Wrought ever nobler work than this.* 
* Ah,* Merlin said, * sore pity it is 
And strange mischance of doom, I wis. 

That death should mar their quest, 

54 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

'Balen, the perfect knight that won 
The sword whose name is malison, 
And made his deed his doom, is one : 
Nor hath his brother Balan done 

Less royal service : not on earth 
Lives there a nobler knight, more strong 
Of soul to win men's praise in song. 
Albeit the light abide not long 

That lightened round his birth. 



* Yea, and of all sad things I know 
The heaviest and the highest in woe 
Is this, the doom whose date brings low 
Too soon in timeless overthrow 

A head so high, a hope so sure. 
The greatest moan for any knight 
That ever won fair fame in fight 
Shall be for Balen, seeing his might 

Must now not long endure.' 

55 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

*Alas,' King Arthur said, 'he hath shown 
Such love to me-ward that the moan 
Made of him should be mine alone 
Above all other, knowing it known 

I have ill deserved it of him.' * Nay,* 
Said Merlin, ' he shall do for you 
Much more, when time shall be anew, 
Than time hath given him chance to do 

Or hope may think to say. 



* But now must be your powers purveyed 
To meet, ere noon of morn be made 
To-morrow, all the host arrayed 
Of this wild foe's wild brother, laid 

Around against you : see to it well. 
For now I part from you.' And soon, 
When sundawn slew the withering moon. 
Two hosts were met to win the boon 

Whose tale is death's to tell. 

56 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

A lordly tale of knights and lords 
For death to tell by count of swords 
When war's wild harp in all its chords 
Rang royal triumph, and the hordes 

Of hurtling foemen rocked and reeled 
As waves wind-thwarted on the sea, 
Was told of all that there might be, 
Till scarce might battle hear or see 

The fortune of the field. 



And many a knight won fame that day 
When even the serpent soul of Kay 
Was kindled toward the fiery play 
As might a lion's be for prey, 

And won him fame that might not die 
With passing of his rancorous breath 
But clung about his life and death 
As fire that speaks in cloud, and saith 

What strong men hear and fly. 

57 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And glorious works were Arthur's there, 
That lit the battle-darkened air : 
But when they saw before them fare 
Like stars of storm the knight that bare 

Two swords about him girt for fray, 
Balen, and Balan with him, then 
Strong wonder smote the souls of men 
If heaven's own host or hell's deep den 

Had sent them forth to slay. 



So keen they rode across the fight, 
So sharp they smote to left and right, 
And made of hurtling darkness light 
With lightning of their swords, till flight 

And fear before them flew like flame. 
That Arthur's self had never known, 
He said, since first his blast was blown. 
Such lords of war as these alone 

That whence he knew not came. 

58 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

But while the fire of war waxed hot 
The wild king hearkened, hearing not, 
Through storm of spears and arrow-shot, 
For succour toward him from King Lot 

And all his host of sea-born men, 
Strong as the strong storm-baffling bird 
Whose cry round Orkney's headlands heard 
Is as the sea's own sovereign word 

That mocks our mortal ken. 



For Merlin's craft of prophecy. 
Who wist that one of twain must die, 
Put might in him to say thereby 
Which head should lose its crown, and lie 

Stricken, though loth he were to know 
That either life should wane and fail ; 
Yet most might Arthur's love avail. 
And still with subtly tempered tale 

His wile held fast the foe. 

59 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

With woven words of magic might 
Wherein the subtle shadow and light 
Changed hope and fear till fear took flight, 
He stayed King Lot's fierce lust of fight 

Till all the wild Welsh war was driven 
As foam before the wind that wakes 
With the all-awakening sun, and breaks 
Strong ships that rue the mirth it makes 

When grace to slay is given. 



And ever hotter lit and higher, 
As fire that meets encountering fire. 
Waxed in King Lot his keen desire 
To bid revenge within him tire 

On Arthur's ravaged fame and life : 
Across the waves of war between 
Floated and flashed, unseen and seen. 
The lustrous likeness of the queen 

Whom shame had sealed his wife. 
60 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

But when the woful word was brought 
That while he tarried, doubting nought, 
The hope was lost whose goal he sought 
And all the fight he yearned for fought. 

His heart was rent for grief and shame, 
And half his hope was set on flight 
Till word was given him of a knight 
Who said : * They are weary and worn with fight, 

And we more fresh than flame.' 



And bright and dark as night and day 
Ere either find the unopening way 
Clear, and forego the unaltering sway, 
The sad king's face shone, frowning : * Yea, 

I would that every knight of mine 
Would do his part as I shall do,' 
He said, * till death or life anew 
Shall judge between us as is due 

With wiser doom than thine.' 
6i 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Then thundered all the awakening field 
With crash of hosts that clashed and reeled, 
Banner to banner, shield to shield, 
And spear to splintering spear-shaft, steeled 

As heart against high heart of man, 
As hope against high hope of knight 
To pluck the crest and crown of fight 
From war's clenched hand by storm's wild light. 

For blessing given or ban. 



All hearts of hearkening men that heard 
The ban twin-born with blessing, stirred 
Like springtide waters, knew the word 
Whereby the steeds of storm are spurred 

With ravenous rapture to destroy, 
And laughed for love of battle, pierced 
With passion of tempestuous thirst 
And hungering hope to assuage it first 

With draughts of stormy joy. 
62 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

But sheer ahead of the iron tide 
That rocked and roared from side to side 
Rode as the lightning's lord might ride 
King Lot, whose heart was set to abide 

All peril of the raging hour, 
And all his host of warriors born 
Where lands by warring seas are worn 
Was only by his hands upborne 

Who gave them pride and power. 



But as the sea's hand smites the shore 
And shatters all the strengths that bore 
The ravage earth may bear no more, 
So smote the hand of Pellinore 

Charging, a knight of Arthur's chief, 
And clove his strong steed's neck in twain. 
And smote him sheer through brow and brain, 
Falling : and there King Lot lay slain, 

And knew not wrath or grief. 

63 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And all the host of Orkney fled, 
And many a mother's son lay dead : 
But when they raised the stricken head 
Whence pride and power and shame were fled 

And rage and anguish now cast out, 
And bore it toward a kingly tomb. 
The wife whose love had wrought his doom 
Came thither, fair as morning's bloom 

And dark as twilight's doubt. 



And there her four strong sons and his, 
Gawain and Gareth, Gaherys 
And Agravain, whose sword's sharp kiss 
With sound of hell's own serpent's hiss 

Should one day turn her life to death, 
Stood mourning with her : but by these 
Seeing Mordred as a seer that sees, 
Anguish of terror bent her knees 

And caught her shuddering breath. 

64 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

The splendour of her sovereign eyes 
Flashed darkness deeper than the skies 
Feel or fear when the sunset dies 
On his that felt as midnight rise 

Their doom upon them, there undone 
By faith in fear ere thought could yield 
A shadowy sense of days revealed, 
The ravin of the final field, 

The terror of their son. 



For Arthur's, as they caught the light 
That sought and durst not seek his sight, 
Darkened, and all his spirit's might 
Withered within him even as night 

Withers when sunrise thrills the sea. 
But Mordred's lightened as with fire 
That smote his mother and his sire 
With darkling doom and deep desire 

That bade its darkness be. 

65 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And heavier on their hearts the weight 
Sank of the fear that brings forth fate, 
The bitter doubt whose womb is great 
With all the grief and love and hate 

That turn to fire men's days on earth. 
And glorious was the funeral made, 
And dark the deepening dread that swayed 
Their darkening souls whose light grew shade 

With sense of death in birth. 



66 



THE TALE OF BALEN 



VI 



In autumn, when the wind and sea 
Rejoice to live and laugh to be, 
And scarce the blast that curbs the tree 
And bids before it quail and flee 

The fiery foliage, where its brand 
Is radiant as the seal of spring, 
Sounds less delight, and waves a wing 
Less lustrous, life's loud thanksgiving 

Puts life in sea and land. 
67 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

High hope in Balen's heart alight 
Laughed, as from all that clamorous fight 
He passed and sought not Arthur's sight, 
Who fain had found his kingliest knight 

And made amend for Balen's wrong. 
But Merlin gave his soul to see 
Fate, rising as a shoreward sea, 
And all the sorrow that should be 

Ere hope or fear thought long. 



* O where are they whose hands upbore 
My battle,' Arthur said, * before 
The wild Welsh host's wide rage and roar ? 
Balen and Balan, Pellinore, 

Where are they ? ' Merlin answered him 
' Balen shall be not long away 
From sight of you, but night nor day 
Shall bring his brother back to say 

If life burn bright or dim.' 
68 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* Now, by my faith,' said Arthur then, 

* Two marvellous knights are they, whose ken 
Toward battle makes the twain as ten, 

And Balen most of all born men 
Passeth of prowess all I know 

Or ever found or sought to see : 

Would God he would abide with me, 

To face the times foretold of thee 
And all the latter woe.' 



For there had Merlin shown the king 
The doom that songs unborn should sing, 
The gifts that time should rise and bring 
Of blithe and bitter days to spring 

As weeds and flowers against the sun. 
And on the king for fear's sake fell 
Sickness, and sorrow deep as hell. 
Nor even might sleep bid fear farewell 

If grace to sleep were won. 
69 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Down in a meadow green and still 
He bade the folk that wrought his will 
Pitch his pavilion, where the chill 
Soft night would let not rest fulfil 

His heart wherein dark fears lay deep. 
And sharp against his hearing cast 
Came a sound as of horsehoofs fast 
Passing, that ere their sound were past 

Aroused him as from sleep. 



And forth he looked along the grass 
And saw before his portal pass 
A knight that wailed aloud, ' Alas 
That life should find this dolorous pass 

And find no shield from doom and dole ! 
And hearing all his moan, ' Abide, 
Fair sir,' the king arose and cried, 
* And say what sorrow bids you ride 

So sorrowful of soul.' 
70 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* My hurt may no man heal, God wot, 
And help of man may speed me not,' 
The sad knight said, * nor change my lot.' 
And toward the castle of Melyot 

Whose towers arose a league away 
He passed forth sorrowing : and anon, 
Ere well the woful sight were gone. 
Came Balen down the meads that shone. 

Strong, bright, and brave as day. 



And seeing the king there stand, the knight 
Drew rein before his face to alight 
In reverence made for love's sake bright 
With joy that set his face alight 

As theirs who see, alive, above, 
The sovereign of their souls, whose name 
To them is even as love's own flame 
To enkindle hope that heeds not fame 

And knows no lord but love. 

71 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And Arthur smiled on him, and said, 
* Right welcome be thou : by my head, 
I would not wish me better sped. 
For even but now there came and fled 

Before me like a cloud that flies 
A knight that made most heavy cheer, 
I know not wherefore ; nor may fear 
Or pity give my heart to hear 

Or lighten on mine eyes. 



* But even for fear's and pity's sake 
Fain were I thou shouldst overtake 
And fetch again this knight that spake 
No word of answering grace to make 

Reply to mine that hailed him : thou. 
By force or by goodwill, shalt bring 
His face before me.' ' Yea, my king,' 
Quoth Balen, * and a greater thing 

Were less than is my vow. 
72 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

'I would the task required and heard 
Were heavier than your sovereign word 
Hath laid on me : ' and thence he spurred 
Elate at heart as youth, and stirred 

With hope as blithe as fires a boy : 
And many a mile he rode, and found 
Far in a forest's glimmering bound 
The man he sought afar around 

And seeing took fire for joy. 



And with him went a maiden, fair 
As flowers aflush with April air. 
And Balen bade him turn him there 
To tell the king what woes they were 

That bowed him down so sore : and he 
Made woeful answer : ' This should do 
Great scathe to me, with nought for you 
Of help that hope might hearken to 

For boot that may not be.' 

73 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And Balen answered : ' I were loth 
To fight as one perforce made wroth 
With one that owes by knighthood's oath 
One love, one service, and one troth 

With me to him whose gracious hand 
Holds fast the helm of knighthood here 
Whereby man's hope and heart may steer : 
I pray you let not sorrow or fear 

Against his bidding stand.' 



The strange knight gazed on him, and spake 

* Will you, for Arthur's royal sake, 

Be warrant for me that I take 

No scathe from strife that man may make ? 

Then will I go with you.' And he 
Made joyous answer : 'Yea, for I 
Will be your warrant or will die.' 
And thence they rode with hearts as high 

As men's that search the sea. 

74 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And as by noon's large light the twain 
Before the tented hall drew rein, 
Suddenly fell the strange knight, slain 
By one that came and went again 

And none might see him ; but his spear 
Clove through the body, swift as fire, 
The man whose doom, forefelt as dire, 
Had darkened all his life's desire. 

As one that death held dear. 



And dying he turned his face and said, 
*Lo now thy warrant that my head 
Should fall not, following forth where led 
A knight whose pledge hath left me dead. 

This darkling manslayer hath to name 
Garlon : take thou my goodlier steed, 
Seeing thine is less of strength and speed. 
And ride, if thou be knight indeed. 

Even thither whence we came. 

75 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* And as the maiden's fair behest 
Shall bid you follow on my quest, 
Follow : and when God's will sees best, 
Revenge my death, and let me rest 

As one that lived and died a knight, 
Unstained of shame alive or dead.' 
And Balen, wrung with sorrow, said, 

* That shall I do : my hand and head, 

I pledge to do you right.' 



And thence with sorrowing heart and cheer 
He rode, in grief that cast out fear 
Lest death in darkness yet were near, 
And bore the truncheon of the spear 

Wherewith the woful knight lay slain 
To her with whom he rode, and she 
Still bare it with her, fain to see 
What righteous doom of God's might be 

The darkling manslayer's bane. 

76 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And down a dim deep woodland way 
They rode between the boughs asway 
With flickering winds whose flash and play 
Made sunlight sunnier where the day 

Laughed, leapt, and fluttered like a bird 
Caught in a light loose leafy net 
That earth for amorous heaven had set 
To hold and see the sundawn yet 

And hear what morning heard. 



There in the sweet soft shifting light 
Across their passage rode a knight 
Flushed hot from hunting as from fight, 
And seeing the sorrow-stricken sight 

Made question of them why they rode 
As mourners sick at heart and sad. 
When all alive about them bade 
Sweet earth for heaven's sweet sake be glad 

As heaven for earth's love glowed. 

77 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* Me lists not tell you,' Balen said. 

The strange knight's face grew keen and red ; 

* Now, might my hand but keep my head, 
Even here should one of twain lie dead 

Were he no better armed than L' 
And Balen spake with smiling speed, 
Where scorn and courtesy kept heed 
Of either : ' That should little need : 

Not here shall either die.' 



And all the cause he told him through 
As one that feared not though he knew 
All : and the strange knight spake anew, 
Saying : ' I will part no more from you 

While life shall last me.' So they went 
Where he might arm himself to ride. 
And rode across wild ways and wide 
To where against a churchyard side 

A hermit's harbour leant. 

78 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And there against them riding came 
Fleet as the lightning's laugh and flame 
The invisible evil, even the same 
They sought and might not curse by name 

As hell's foul child on earth set free, 
And smote the strange knight through, and fled, 
And left the mourners by the dead. 
* Alas, again,' Sir Balen said, 

* This wrong he hath done to me.* 



And there they laid their dead to sleep 
Royally, lying where wild winds keep 
Keen watch and wail more soft and deep 
Than where men's choirs bid music weep 

And song like incense heave and swell. 
And forth again they rode, and found 
Before them, dire in sight and sound, 
A castle girt about and bound 

With sorrow like a spell. ^ 

79 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Above it seemed the sun at noon 

Sad as a wintry withering moon 

That shudders while the waste wind's tune 

Craves ever none may guess what boon, 

But all may know the boon for dire. 
And evening on its darkness fell 
More dark than very death's farewell, 
And night about it hung like hell, 

Whose fume the dawn made fire. 



And Balen lighted down and passed 
Within the gateway, whence no blast 
Rang as the sheer portcullis, cast 
Suddenly down, fell, and made fast 

The gate behind him, whence he spied 
A sudden rage of men without 
And ravin of a murderous rout 
That girt the maiden hard about 

With death on either side. 
80 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And seeing that shame and peril, fear 
Bade wrath and grief awake and hear 
What shame should say in fame's wide ear 
If she, by sorrow sealed more dear 

Than joy might make her, so should die 
And up the tower's curled stair he sprang 
As one that flies death's deadliest fang, 
And leapt right out amid their gang 

As fire from heaven on high. 



And they thereunder seeing the knight 
Unhurt among their press alight 
And bare his sword for chance of fight 
Stood from him, loth to strive or smite. 

And bade him hear their woful word. 
That not the maiden's death they sought ; 
But there through years too dire for thought 
Had lain their lady stricken, and nought 

Might heal her : and he heard 
8i 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

For there a maiden clean and whole 
In virgin body and virgin soul, 
Whose name was writ on royal roll, 
That would but stain a silver bowl 

With offering of her stainless blood, 
Therewith might heal her : so they stayed 
For hope's sad sake each blameless maid 
There journeying in that dolorous shade 

Whose bloom was bright in bud. 



No hurt nor harm to her it were 
If she should yield a sister there 
Some tribute of her blood, and fare 
Forth with this joy at heart to bear, 

That all unhurt and unafraid 
This grace she had here by God's grace wrought. 
And kindling all with kindly thought 
And love that saw save love's self nought, 

Shone, smiled, and spake the maid. 
82 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

*Good knight of mine, good will have I 
To help this healing though I die.' 
* Nay,' Balen said, 'but love may try 
What help in living love may lie. 

— I will not lose the life of her 
While my life lasteth.' So she gave 
The tribute love was fain to crave. 
But might not heal though fain to save, 

Were God's grace helpfuller. 



Another maid in later Mays 
Won with her life that woful praise, 
And died. But they, when surging day's 
Deep tide fulfilled the dawn's wide ways, 

Rode forth, and found by day or night 
No chance to cross their wayfaring 
Till when they saw the fourth day spring 
A knight's hall gave them harbouring 

Rich as a king's house might. 

83 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And while they sat at meat and spake 
Words bright and kind as grace might make 
Sweet for true knighthood's kindly sake, 
They heard a cry beside them break 

The still-souled joy of blameless rest. 
* What noise is this ? ' quoth Balen. ' Nay,' 
His knightly host made answer, ' may 
Our grief not grieve you though I say 

How here I dwell unblest. 



* Not many a day has lived and died 
Since at a tournay late I tried 
My strength to smite and turn and ride 
Against a knight of kinglike pride, 

King Pellam's brother : twice I smote 
The splendour of his strength to dust : 
And he, fulfilled of hate's fierce lust, 
Swore vengeance, pledged for hell to trust, 

And keen as hell's wide throat. 

84 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* Invisible as the spirit of night 

That heaven and earth in depth and height 

May see not by the mild moon's light 

Nor even when stars would grant them sight, 

He walks and slays as plague's bUnd breath 
Slays : and my son, whose anguish here 
Makes moan perforce that mars our cheer, 
He wounded, even ere love might fear 

That hate were strong as death. 



* Nor may my son be whole till he 
Whose stroke through him hath stricken me 
Shall give again his blood to be 
Our healing : yet may no man see 

This felon, clothed with darkness round 
And keen as lightning's life.' Thereon 
Spake Balen, and his presence shone 
Even as the sun's when stars are gone 

That hear dawn's trumpet sound. 

8s 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* That knight I know : two knights of mine, 
Two comrades, sealed by faith's bright sign, 
Whose eyes as ours that live should shine, 
And drink the golden sunlight's wine 

With joy's thanksgiving that they live. 
He hath slain in even the same blind wise : 
Were all wide wealth beneath the skies 
Mine, might I meet him, eyes on eyes, 

All would I laugh to give.' 



His host made answer, and his gaze 
Grew bright with trust as dawn's moist maze 
With fire : ' Within these twenty days. 
King Pellam, lord of Lystenayse, 

Holds feast through all this country cried. 
And there before the knightly king 
May no knight come except he bring 
For witness of his wayfaring 

His paramour or bride. 
86 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* And there that day, so soon to shine, 
This knight, your felon foe and mine. 
Shall show, full-flushed with bloodred wine, 
The fierce false face whereon we pine 

To wreak the wrong he hath wrought us, bare 
As shame should see and brand it.' * Then,' 
Said Balan, * shall he give again 
His blood to heal your son, and men 

Shall see death blind him there/ 



* Forth will we fare to-morrow,' said 
His host : and forth, as sunrise led. 
They rode ; and fifteen days were fled 
Ere toward their goal their steeds had sped. 

And there alighting might they find 
For Balen's host no place to rest. 
Who came without a gentler guest 
Beside him : and that household's hest 

Bade leave his sword behind. 

87 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* Nay,' Balen said, * that do I not : 
My country's custom stands, God wot, 
That none whose lot is knighthood's lot, 
To ride where chance as fire is hot 

With hope or promise given of fight, 
Shall fail to keep, for knighthood's part, 
His weapon with him as his heart ; 
And as I came will I depart. 

Or hold herein my right.' 



Then gat he leave to wear his sword 
Beside the strange king's festal board 
Where feasted many a knight and lord 
In seemliness of fair accord : 

And Balen asked of one beside, 
* Is there not in this court, if fame 
Keep faith, a knight that hath to name 
Garlon ? ' and saying that word of shame, 

He scanned that place of pride, 
88 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* Yonder he goeth against the light, 
He with the face as swart as night,' 
Quoth the other : ' but he rides to fight 
Hid round by charms from all men's sight, 

And many a noble knight he hath slain, 
Being wrapt in darkness deep as hell 
And silence dark as shame.' ' Ah, well,' 
Said Balen, ' is that he ? the spell 

May be the sorcerer's bane.' 



Then Balen gazed upon him long, 
And thought, * If here I wreak my wrong, 
Alive I may not scape, so strong 
The felon's friends about him throng ; 

And if I leave him here alive. 
This chance perchance may life not give 
Again : much evil, if he live. 
He needs must do, should fear forgive 

When wrongs bid strike and strive.' 

89 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And Garlon, seeing how Balen's eye 
Dwelt on him as his heart waxed high 
With joy in wrath to see him nigh, 
Rose wolf-like with a wolfish cry 

And crossed and smote him on the face, 
Saying, * Knight, what wouldst thou with me ? 

Eat, 
For shame, and gaze not : eat thy meat : 
Do that thou art come for : stands thy seat 

Next ours of royal race ? ' 

* Well hast thou said : thy rede rings true ; 
That which I came for will I do,' 
Quoth Balen : forth his fleet sword flew. 
And clove the head of Garlon through 

Clean to the shoulders. Then he cried 
Loud to his lady, * Give me here 
The truncheon of the shameful spear 
Wherewith he slew your knight, when fear 

Bade hate in darkness ride.' 
90 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And gladly, bright with grief made glad, 
She gave the truncheon as he bade, 
For still she bare it with her, sad 
And strong in hopeless hope she had, 

Through all dark days of thwarting fear, 
To see if doom should fall aright 
And as God's fire-fraught thunder smite 
That head, clothed round with hell-faced night, 

Bare now before her here. 



And Balen smote therewith the dead 
Dark felon's body through, and said 
Aloud, 'With even this truncheon, red 
With baser blood than brave men bled 

Whom in thy shameful hand it slew, 
Thou hast slain a nobler knight, and now 
It clings and cleaves thy body : thou 
Shall cleave again no brave man's brow. 

Though hell would aid anew.' 

91 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And toward his host he turned and spake ; 

* Now for your son's long-suffering sake 
Blood ye may fetch enough, and take 
Wherewith to heal his hurt, and make 

Death warm as life.' Then rose a cry 
Loud as the wind's when stormy spring 
Makes all the woodland rage and ring : 

* Thou hast slain my brother,' said the king, 

* And here with him shalt die.' 



* Ay ? * Balen laughed him answer. ' Well, 
Do it then thyself.' And the answer fell 
Fierce as a blast of hate from hell, 

* No man of mine that with me dwell 

Shall strike at thee but I their lord 
For love of this my brother slain.' 
And Pellam caught and grasped amain 
A grim great weapon, fierce and fain 

To feed his hungering sword. 
92 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And eagerly he smote, and sped 
Not well : for Balen's blade, yet red 
With lifeblood of the murderous dead, 
Between the swordstroke and his head 

Shone, and the strength of the eager stroke 
Shore it in sunder : then the knight, 
Naked and weaponless for fight. 
Ran seeking him a sword to smite 

As hope within him woke. 



And so their flight for deathward fast 
From chamber forth to chamber passed 
Where lay no weapon, till the last 
Whose doors made way for Balen cast 

Upon him as a sudden spell 
Wonder that even as lightning leapt 
Across his heart and eyes, and swept 
As storm across his soul that kept 

Wild watch, and watched not well. 

93 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

For there the deed he did, being near 
Death's danger, breathless as the deer 
Driven hard to bay, but void of fear, 
Brought sorrow down for many a year 

On many a man in many a land. 
All glorious shone that chamber, bright 
As burns at sunrise heaven's own height 
With cloth of gold the bed was dight. 

That flamed on either hand. 



And one he saw within it lie : 
A table of all clear gold thereby 
Stood stately, fair as morning's eye. 
With four strong silver pillars, high 

And firm as faith and hope may be : 
And on it shone the gift he sought, 
A spear most marvellously wrought, 
That when his eye and handgrip caught 

Small fear at heart had he. 

94 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Right on King Pellam then, as fire 
Turns when the thwarting winds wax higher, 
He turned, and smote him down. So dire 
The stroke was, when his heart's desire 

Struck, and had all its fill of hate, 
That as the king fell swooning down 
Fell the walls, rent from base to crown, 
Prone as prone seas that break and drown 

Ships fraught with doom for freight. 



And there for three days' silent space 
Balen and Pellam face to face 
Lay dead or deathlike, and the place 
Was death's blind kingdom, till the grace 

That God had given the sacred seer 
For counsel or for comfort led 
His Merlin thither, and he said. 
Standing between the quick and dead, 

*Rise up, and rest not here.' 

95 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And Balen rose and set his eyes 
Against the seer's as one that tries 
His heart against the sea's and sky's 
And fears not if he lives or dies, 

Saying, * I would have my damosel, 
Ere I fare forth, to fare with me.' 
And sadly Merlin answered, * See 
Where now she lies ; death knows if she 

Shall now fare ill or well. 



* And in this world we meet no more, 
Balen.' And Balen, sorrowing sore, 
Though fearless yet the heart he bore 
Beat toward the life that lay before. 

Rode forth through many a wild waste land 
Where men cried out against him, mad 
With grievous faith in fear that bade 
Their wrath make moan for doubt they had 

Lest hell had armed his hand. 

96 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

For in that chamber's wondrous shrine 

Was part of Christ's own blood, the wine 

Shed of the true triumphal vine 

Whose growth bids earth's deep darkness shine 

As heaven's deep light through the air and sea ; 
That mystery toward our northern shore 
Arimathean Joseph bore 
For healing of our sins of yore, 

That grace even there might be. 



And with that spear there shrined apart 
Was Christ's side smitten to the heart. 
And fiercer than the lightning's dart 
The stroke was, and the deathlike smart 

Wherewith, nigh drained of blood and breath, 
The king lay stricken as one long dead : 
And Joseph's was the blood there shed, 
For near akin was he that bled. 

Near even as life to death. 

97 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And therefore fell on all that land 
Sorrow : for still on either hand, 
As Balen rode alone and scanned 
Bright fields and cities built to stand 

Till time should break them, dead men lay ; 
And loud and long from all their folk 
Living, one cry that cursed him broke ; 
Three countries had his dolorous stroke 

Slain, or should surely slay. 



98 



THE TALE OF BALEN 



VII 



In winter, when the year burns low 
As fire wherein no firebrands glow, 
And winds dishevel as they blow 
The lovely stormy wings of snow, 

The hearts of northern men burn bright 
With joy that mocks the joy of spring 
To hear all heaven's keen clarions ring 
Music that bids the spirit sing 

And day give thanks for night. 

99 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Aloud and dark as hell or hate 
Round Balen's head the wind of fate 
Blew storm and cloud from death's wide gate 
But joy as grief in him was great 

To face God's doom and live or die, 
Sorrowing for ill wrought unaware, 
Rejoicing in desire to dare 
All ill that innocence might bear 

With changeless heart and eye. 



Yet passing fain he was when past 
Those lands and woes at length and last. 
Eight times, as thence he fared forth fast, 
Dawn rose and even was overcast 

With starry darkness dear as day. 
Before his venturous quest might meet 
Adventure, seeing within a sweet 
Green low-lying forest, hushed in heat, 

A tower that barred his way. 

IOC 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Strong summer, dumb with rapture, bound 
With golden calm the woodlands round 
Wherethrough the knight forth faring found 
A knight that on the greenwood ground 

Sat mourning : fair he was to see, 
And moulded as for love or fight 
A maiden's dreams might frame her knight ; 
But sad in joy's far-flowering sight 

As grief's blind thrall might be. 



* God save you,' Balen softly said, 

* What grief bows down your heart and head 
Thus, as one sorrowing for his dead ? 

Tell me, if haply I may stead 

In aught your sorrow, that I may.' 

* Sir knight,' that other said, * thy word 
Makes my grief heavier that I heard.' 
And pity and wonder inly stirred 

Drew Balen thence away. 

lOI 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And so withdrawn with silent speed 

He saw the sad knight's stately steed, 

A war-horse meet for warrior's need, 

That none who passed might choose but heed. 

So strong he stood, so great, so fair. 
With eyes afire for flight or fight, 
A joy to look on, mild in might. 
And swift and keen and kind as light, 

And all as clear of care. 



And Balen, gazing on him, heard 
Again his master's woful word 
Sound sorrow through the calm unstirred 
By fluttering wind or flickering bird, 

Thus : * Ah, fair lady and faithless, why 
Break thy pledged faith to meet me ? soon 
An hour beyond thy trothplight noon 
Shall strike my death-bell, and thy boon 

Is this, that here I die. 

I02 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* My curse for all thy gifts may be 
Heavier than death or night on thee ; 
For now this sword thou gavest me 
Shall set me from thy bondage free.' 

And there the man had died self-slain, 
But Balen leapt on him and caught 
The blind fierce hand that fain had wrought 
Self-murder, stung with fire of thought, 

As rage makes anguish fain. 



Then, mad for thwarted grief, * Let go 
My hand,' the fool of wrath and woe 
Cried, ' or I slay thee.' Scarce the glow 
In Balen's cheek and eye might show, 

As dawn shows day while seas lie chill, 
He heard, though pity took not heed, 
But smiled and spake, * That shall not need 
What man may do to bid you speed 

I, so God speed me, will.' 
103 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And the other craved his name, beguiled 
By hope that made his madness mild. 
Again Sir Balen spake and smiled : 
* My name is Balen, called the Wild 

By knights whom kings and courts make tame 
Because I ride alone afar 
And follow but my soul for star.' 
' Ah, sir, I know the knight you are 

And all your fiery fame. 



' The knight that bears two swords I know, 
Most praised of all men, friend and foe, 
For prowess of your hands, that show 
Dark war the way where balefires glow 

And kindle glory like the dawn's.' 
So spake the sorrowing knight, and stood 
As one whose heart fresh hope made good : 
And forth they rode by wold and wood 

And down the glimmering lawns. 
104 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And Balen craved his name who rode 
Beside him, where the wild wood glowed 
With joy to feel how noontide flowed 
Through glade and glen and rough green road 

Till earth grew joyful as the sea. 
* My name is Garnysshe of the Mount, 
A poor man's son of none account,' 
He said, ' where springs of loftier fount 

Laugh loud with pride to be. 



* But strength in weakness lives and stands 
As rocks that rise through shifting sands ; 
And for the prowess of my hands 
One made me knight and gave me lands, 

Duke Hermel, lord from far to near. 
Our prince ; and she that loved me — she 
I love, and deemed she loved but me. 
His daughter, pledged her faith to be 

Ere now beside me here.' 

105 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And Balen, brief of speech as light 
Whose word, beheld of depth and height, 
Strikes silence through the stars of night, 
Spake, and his face as dawn's grew bright. 

For hope to help a happier man, 
* How far then lies she hence ? ' 'By this,* 
Her lover sighed and said, * I wis, 
Not six fleet miles the passage is, 

And straight as thought could span/ 



So rode they swift and sure, and found 
A castle walled and dyked around : 
And Balen, as a warrior bound 
On search where hope might fear to sound 

The darkness of the deeps of doubt. 
Made entrance through the guardless gate 
As life, while hope in life grows great. 
Makes way between the doors of fate 

That death may pass thereout. 
io6 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Through many a glorious chamber, wrought 
For all delight that love's own thought 
Might dream or dwell in, Balen sought 
And found of all he looked for nought, 

For like a shining shell her bed 
Shone void and vacant of her : thence 
Through devious wonders bright and dense 
He passed and saw with shame-struck sense 

Where shame and faith lay dead. 



Down in a sweet small garden, fair 
With flowerful joy in the ardent air, 
He saw, and raged with loathing, where 
She lay with love-dishevelled hair 

Beneath a broad bright laurel tree 
And clasped in amorous arms a knight, 
The unloveliest that his scornful sight 
Had dwelt on yet ; a shame the bright 

Broad noon might shrink to see. 
107 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And thence in wrathful hope he turned, 
Hot as the heart within him burned, 
To meet the knight whose love, so spurned 
And spat on and made nought of, yearned 

And dreamed and hoped and lived in vain, 
And said, ' I have found her sleeping fast,' 
And led him where the shadows cast 
From leaves wherethrough light winds ran past 

Screened her from sun and rain. 



But Garnysshe, seeing, reeled as he stood 
Like a tree, kingliest of the wood. 
Half hewn through : and the burning blood 
Through lips and nostrils burst aflood : 

And gathering back his rage and might 
As broken breakers rally and roar 
The loud wind down that drives off shore. 
He smote their heads off : there no more 

Their life might shame the light. 
io8 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Then turned he back toward Balen, mad 
With grief, and said, * The grief I had 
Was nought : ere this my life was glad : 
Thou hast done this deed : I was but sad 

And fearful how my hope might fare 
I had lived my sorrow down, hadst thou 
Not shown me what I saw but now.' 
The sorrow and scorn on Balen's brow 

Bade silence curb him there. 



And Balen answered : ' What I did 

I did to hearten thee and bid 

Thy courage know that shame should rid 

A man's high heart of love that hid 

Blind shame within its core : God knows, 
I did, to set a bondman free. 
But as I would thou hadst done by me, 
That seeing what love must die to see 

Love's end might well be woe's.' 
109 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* Alas,' the woful weakling said, 

* I have slain what most I loved : I have shed 
The blood most near my heart : the head 
Lies cold as earth, defiled and dead. 

That all my life was lighted by, 
That all my soul bowed down before. 
And now may bear with life no more : 
For now my sorrow that I bore 

Is twofold, and I die.' 



Then with his red wet sword he rove 
His breast in sunder, where it clove 
Life, and no pulse against it strove. 
So sure and strong the deep stroke drove 

Deathward : and Balen, seeing him dead, 
Rode thence, lest folk would say he had slain 
Those three ; and ere three days again 
Had seen the sun's might wax and wane, 

Far forth he had spurred and sped, 
no 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And riding past a cross whereon 
Broad golden letters written shone, 
Saying, ' No knight born may ride alone 
Forth toward this castle,' and all the stone 

Glowed in the sun's glare even as though 
Blood stained it from the crucified 
Dead burden of one that there had died. 
An old hoar man he saw beside 

Whose face was wan as woe. 



* Balen the Wild,' he said, * this way 
Thy way lies not : thou hast passed to-day 
Thy bands ; but turn again, and stay 
Thy passage, while thy soul hath sway 

Within thee, and through God's good power 
It will avail thee : ' and anon 
His likeness as a cloud was gone. 
And Balen's heart within him shone 

Clear as the cloudless hour. 
Ill 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Nor fate nor fear might overcast 
The soul now near its peace at last. 
Suddenly, thence as forth he past, 
A mighty and a deadly blast 

Blown of a hunting-horn he heard, 
As when the chase hath nobly sped. 
* That blast is blown for me,' he said, 
*The prize am I who am yet not dead,' 

And smiled upon the word. 



As toward a royal hart's death rang 
That note, whence all the loud wood sang 
With winged and living sound that sprang 
Like fire, and keen as fire's own fang 

Pierced the sweet silence that it slew. 
But nought like death or strife was here : 
Fair semblance and most goodly cheer 
They made him, they whose troop drew near 

As death among them drew. 

112 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

A hundred ladies well arrayed 
And many a knight well weaponed made 
That kindly show of cheer : the glade 
Shone round them till its very shade 

Lightened and laughed from grove to lawn 
To hear and see them : so they brought 
Within a castle fair as thought 
Could dream that wizard hands had wrought 

The guest among them drawn. 



All manner of glorious joy was there : 
Harping and dancing, loud and fair, 
And minstrelsy that made of air 
Fire, so like fire its raptures were. 

Then the chief lady spake on high : 
* Knight with the two swords, one of two 
Must help you here or fall from you : 
For needs you now must have ado 

And joust with one hereby.' 

113 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

' A good knight guards an island here 
Against all swords that chance brings near, 
And there with stroke of sword and spear 
Must all for whom these halls make cheer 

Fight, and redeem or yield up life.' 
'An evil custom,' Balen said, 
* Is this, that none whom chance hath led 
Hither, if knighthood crown his head, 

May pass unstirred to strife.' 



* You shall not have ado to fight 
Here save against one only knight,' 
She said, and all her face grew bright 
As hell-fire, lit with hungry light 

That wicked laughter touched with flame. 
*Well, since I shall thereto,' said he, 

* I am ready at heart as death for me : 
Fain would I be where death should be 

And life should lose its name. 
114 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

*But travelling men whose goal afar 
Shines as a cloud-constraining star 
Are often weary, and wearier are 
Their steeds that feel each fret and jar 

Wherewith the wild ways wound them : yet, 
Albeit my horse be weary, still 
My heart is nowise weary ; will 
Sustains it even till death fulfil 

My trust upon him set.' 



' Sir,* said a knight thereby that stood, 
*Meseems your shield is now not good 
But worn with warrior work, nor could 
Sustain in strife the strokes it would : 

A larger will I lend you.' * Ay, 
Thereof I thank you,' Balen said. 
Being single of heart as one that read 
No face aright whence faith had fled, 

Nor dreamed that faith could fly. 

115 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And so he took that shield unknown 
And left for treason's touch his own, 
And toward that island rode alone, 
Nor heard the blast against him blown 

Sound in the wind's and water's sound. 
But hearkening toward the stream's edge heard 
Nought save the soft stream's rippling word. 
Glad with the gladness of a bird, 

That sang to the air around. 



And there against the water-side 

He saw, fast moored to rock and ride, 

A fair great boat anear abide 

Like one that waits the turning tide. 

Wherein embarked his horse and he 
Passed over toward no kindly strand : 
And where they stood again on land 
There stood a maiden hard at hand 

Who seeing them wept to see. 
ii6 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And ' O knight Balen,' was her cry, 
* Why have ye left your own shield ? why 
Come hither out of time to die ? 
For had ye kept your shield, thereby 

Ye had yet been known, and died not here. 
Great pity it is of you this day 
As ever was of knight, or may 
Be ever, seeing in war's bright way 

Praise knows not Balen's peer.* 



And Balen said, ' Thou hast heard my name 
Right : it repenteth me, though shame 
May tax me not with base men's blame, 
That ever, hap what will, I came 

Within this country ; yet, being come, 
For shame I may not turn again 
Now, that myself and nobler men 
May scorn me : now is more than then, 

And faith bids fear be dumb. 
117 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* Be it life or death, my chance I take, 
Be it life's to build or death's to break : 
And fall what may, me lists not make 
Moan for sad life's or death's sad sake.' 

Then looked he on his armour, glad 
And high of heart, and found it strong : 
And all his soul became a song 
And soared in prayer that soared not long, 

For all the hope it had. 



Then saw he whence against him came 
A steed whose trappings shone like flame, 
And he that rode him showed the same 
Fierce colour, bright as fire or fame, 

But dark the visors were as night 
That hid from Balen Balan's face. 
And his from Balan : God's own grace 
Forsook them for a shadowy space 

Where darkness cast out light. 
ii8 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

The two swords girt that Balen bare 
Gave Balan for a breath's while there 
Pause, wondering if indeed it were 
Balen his brother, bound to dare 

The chance of that unhappy quest : 
But seeing not as he thought to see 
His shield, he deemed it was not he, 
And so, as fate bade sorrow be. 

They laid their spears in rest. 



So mighty was the course they ran 
With spear to spear so great of span. 
Each fell back stricken, man by man, 
Horse by horse, borne down : so the ban 

That wrought by doom against them wrought 
But Balen by his falling steed 
Was bruised the sorer, being indeed 
Way-weary like a rain-bruised reed. 

With travel ere he fought. 
119 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And Balen rose again from swoon 

First, and went toward him : all too soon 

He too then rose, and the evil boon 

Of strength came back, and the evil tune 

Of battle unnatural made again 
Mad music as for death's wide ear 
Listening and hungering toward the near 
Last sigh that life or death might hear 

At last from dying men. 



Balan smote Balen first, and clove 
His lifted shield that rose and strove 
In vain against the stroke that drove 
Down : as the web that morning wove 

Of glimmering pearl from spray to spray 
Dies when the strong sun strikes it, so 
Shrank the steel, tempered thrice to show 
Strength, as the mad might of the blow 

Shore Balen's helm away. 
1 20 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Then turning as a turning wave 
Against the land-wind, blind and brave 
In hope that dreams despair may save, 
With even the unhappy sword that gave 

The gifts of fame and fate in one 
He smote his brother, and there had nigh 
Felled him : and while they breathed, his eye 
Glanced up, and saw beneath the sky 

Sights fairer than the sun. 



The towers of all the castle there 
Stood full of ladies, blithe and fair 
As the earth beneath and the amorous air 
About them and above them were : 

So toward the blind and fateful fight 
Again those brethren went, and sore 
Were all the strokes they smote and bore, 
And breathed again, and fell once more 

To battle in their sight. 

121 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

With blood that either spilt and bled 
Was all the ground they fought on red, 
And each knight's hauberk hewn and shred 
Left each unmailed and naked, shed 

From off them even as mantles cast : 
And oft they breathed, and drew but breath 
Brief as the word strong sorrow saith, 
And poured and drank the draught of death, 

Till fate was full at last. 



And Balan, younger born than he 
Whom darkness bade him slay, and be 
Slain, as in mist where none may see 
If aught abide or fall or flee, 

Drew back a little and laid him down, 
Dying : but Balen stood, and said, 
As one between the quick and dead 
Might stand and speak, * What good knight's head 

Hath won this mortal crown ? 

122 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

' What knight art thou ? for never I 
Who now beside thee dead shall die 
Found yet the knight afar or nigh 
That matched me.' Then his brother's eye 

Flashed pride and love ; he spake and smiled 
And felt in death life's quickening flame, 
And answered : ' Balan is my name, 
The good knight Balen's brother ; fame 

Calls and miscalls him wild.* 



The cry from Balen's lips that sprang 
Sprang sharper than his sword's stroke rang. 
More keen than death's or memory's fang, 
Through sense and soul the shuddering pang 

Shivered : and scarce he had cried, *Alas 
That ever I should see this day,' 
When sorrow swooned from him away 
As blindly back he fell, and lay 

Where sleep lets anguish pass. 
123 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

But Balan rose on hands and knees 
And crawled by childlike dim degrees 
Up toward his brother, as a breeze 
Creeps wingless over sluggard seas 

When all the wind's heart fails it : so 
Beneath their mother's eyes had he, 
A babe that laughed with joy to be, 
Made toward him standing by her knee 

For love's sake long ago. 



Then, gathering strength up for a space, 
From off his brother's dying face 
With dying hands that wrought apace 
While death and life would grant them grace 

He loosed his helm and knew not him, 
So scored with blood it was, and hewn 
Athwart with darkening wounds : but soon 
Life strove and shuddered through the swoon 

Wherein its light lay dim. 
124 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And sorrow set these chained words free : 

* O Balan, O my brother ! me 

Thou hast slain, and I, my brother, thee : 
And now far hence, on shore and sea, 
Shall all the wide world speak of us.* 

* Alas,' said Balan, ' that I might 

Not know you, seeing two swords were dight 
About you ; now the unanswering sight 
Hath here found answer thus. 



* Because you bore another shield 
Than yours, that even ere youth could wield 
Like arms with manhood's tried and steeled 
Shone as my star of battle-field, 

I deemed it surely might not be 
My brother.' Then his brother spake 
Fiercely : 'Would God, for thy sole sake, 
I had my life again, to take 

Revenge for only thee ! 

125 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

' For all this deadly work was wrought 
Of one false knight's false word and thought, 
Whose mortal craft and counsel caught 
And snared my faith who doubted nought, 

And made me put my shield away. 
Ah, might I live, I would destroy 
That castle for its customs : joy 
There makes of grief a deadly toy, 

And death makes night of day.* 



* Well done were that, if aught were done 
Well ever here beneath the sun,' 
Said Balan : * better work were none : 
For hither since I came and won 

A woful honour born of death. 
When here my hap it was to slay 
A knight who kept this island way, 
I might not pass by night or day 

Hence, as this token saith. 
126 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

* No more shouldst thou, for all the might 
Of heart and hand that seals thee knight 
Most noble of all that see the light, 
Brother, hadst thou but slain in fight 

Me, and arisen unscathed and whole, 
As would to God thou hadst risen ! though here 
Light is as darkness, hope as fear. 
And love as hate : and none draws near 

Save toward a mortal goal.' 



Then, fair as any poison-flower 
Whose blossom blights the withering bower 
Whereon its blasting breath has power, 
Forth fared the lady of the tower 

With many a lady and many a knight 
And came across the water-way 
Even where on death's dim border lay 
Those brethren sent of her to slay 

And die in kindless fight. 
127 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

And all those hard light hearts were swayed 
With pity passing like a shade 
That stays not, and may be not stayed, 
To hear the mutual moan they made, 

Each to behold his brother die, 
Saying, ' Both we came out of one tomb, 
One star-crossed mother's woful womb. 
And so within one grave-pit's gloom 

Untimely shall we lie.' 



And Balan prayed, as God should bless 
That lady for her gentleness. 
That where the battle's mortal stress 
Had made for them perforce to press 

The bed whence never man may rise 
They twain, free now from hopes and fears, 
Might sleep ; and she, as one that hears. 
Bowed her bright head : and very tears 

Fell from her cold fierce eyes. 
128 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

Then Balan prayed her send a priest 

To housel them, that ere they ceased 

The hansel of the heavenly feast 

That fills with light from the answering east 

The sunset of the life of man 
Might bless them, and their lips be kissed 
With death's requickening eucharist. 
And death's and life's dim sunlit mist 

Pass as a stream that ran. 



And so their dying rites were done : 
And Balen, seeing the death-struck sun 
Sink, spake as he whose goal is won : 
' Now, when our trophied tomb is one, 

And over us our tale is writ. 
How two that loved each other, two 
Born and begotten brethren, slew 
Each other, none that reads anew 

Shall choose but weep for it. 
129 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

' And no good knight and no good man 
Whose eye shall ever come to scan 
The record of the imperious ban 
That made our life so sad a span 

Shall read or hear, who shall not pray 
For us for ever.' Then anon 
Died Balan ; but the sun was gone, 
And deep the stars of midnight shone, 

Ere Balen passed away. 



And there low lying, as' hour on hour 

Fled, all his life in all its flower 

Came back as in a sunlit shower 

Of dreams, when sweet-souled sleep has power 

On life less sweet and glad to be. 
He drank the draught of life's first wine 
Again : he saw the moorland shine, 
The rioting rapids of the Tyne, 

The woods, the cliffs, the sea, 
130 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

The joy that lives at heart and home, 
The joy to rest, the joy to roam. 
The joy of crags and scaurs he clomb, 
The rapture of the encountering foam 

Embraced and breasted of the boy, 
The first good steed his knees bestrode. 
The first wild sound of songs that flowed 
Through ears that thrilled and heart that glowed, 

Fulfilled his death with joy. 



So, dying not as a coward that dies 
And dares not look in death's dim eyes 
Straight as the stars on seas and skies 
Whence moon and sun recoil and rise, 

He looked on life and death, and slept. 
And there with morning Merlin came. 
And on the tomb that told their fame 
He wrote by Balan's Balen's name. 

And gazed thereon, and wept. 

13^ 



THE TALE OF BALEN 

For all his heart within him yearned 
With pity like as fire that burned. 
The fate his fateful eye discerned 
Far off now dimmed it, ere he turned 

His face toward Camelot, to tell 
Arthur of all the storms that woke 
Round Balen, and the dolorous stroke, 
And how that last blind battle broke 

The consummated spell. 



*Alas,' King Arthur said, 'this day 

I have heard the worst that woe might say : 

For in this world that wanes away 

I know not two such knights as they.' 

This is the tale that memory writes 
Of men whose names like stars shall stand, 
Balen and Balan, sure of hand, 
Two brethren of Northumberland, 

In life and death good knights. 
132 



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